"wrongdoer" poems
Either I'm black, or white
I'd like to say " NO TO RACISM "
It hurts me, what's going on the worldwide
Why don't everyone respect themselves at least ?
This is a problem of all mankind
From north to south, from west to east
Yeah, it's a matter of humanity
And whom agree with me
Switch on your pity
To stop this enemy
Why do we say ***** ? ***** ????
We're coming from the same source, aren't we ??
What happened that day
In Missouri U.S.A
When a policeman, have killed a Blackman
In a horrible and ugly way
Without respect, with no shame
And what's happening in
A lot of European countries
Against Islam, why are they racists ?
Are Muslims terrorists ?
We all know
That terrorists have no home
No religion, they're unknown
They might not be shown
So, why do they attack
The world of Islam ?
It doesn't deserve that
If they really represent Islam
You say that it's a revolution
In a lot of nations
Listen to me carefully
We're able to disobey
Our wrongdoer president
But, by the way
We haven't to take
Something to be hidden
We mustn't veil
Are we terrorists ??
And now, don't you understand ?
Do not be racist
I shall defend
By my diamond pen
'cause obviously I'm an artist
I'm gonna fly
I wanna shine
For all mankind
Yeah, I'm that kind
Just open your mind
And think about what I used to write
Sep 20, 2014
Sep 20, 2014 at 4:48 AM UTC
Pilate asked Him, “What is truth?” when Jesus stood on trial,
Bearing witness of the Truth to all who heard His voice.
Though philosophy rejected it, stood in denial,
Still, the Way, the Truth, the Life allowed mankind its choice.
“What is truth?” though, sounds urbane, superior to law.
Hermeneutics of humility smooths out the field.
I seem more sophisticated, cultured, not bourgeois,
If it’s all a mystery, still hidden, unrevealed.
So I claim, “There are no absolutes; it’s relative,”
Disregarding that my statement’s antithetical.
My assertion controverts itself (though tentative),
By proclaiming proclamations “theoretical.”
Next I try, “Who really knows what truth is, after all?”
All my friends agree with me; they wisely nod, concur.
Confident in doubt, with inconsistency banal,
Logic cast aside, to diametrics they demur.
How about “There is no right or wrong; it’s in your head!”
Satisfying concept until I’m the one abused.
Then my default is to judge the wrongdoer instead,
Never asking, “Why impose my ‘truth’ on the accused?”
“Well,” I claim, “I make my own reality; it’s true.”
If you counter me on that, I’ll argue all the way.
Think about it, though, because just how can I undo
True belief with skepticism; how will doubt have sway ?
Really, if I don’t have Truth, I don’t have anything.
Two plus two must equal four, or all the rest is void.
If we have no premise to employ linguistic string,
Then our discourse has no point; we’re barely humanoid.
Truth’s the binding to our book, the glue that holds secure
Logic, Reason, plain Consistency, our common ground,
Making possible each conversation to be sure,
Infrastructure of our culture, verity profound.
Then . . .
Let the relativist hush, he has no argument.
Making absolutist claims without the Truth is mad.
Only schizophrenics would attempt to circumvent
Rationale with their subjective unbelieving fad.
Maybe Truth’s “behind the times,” unstylish, square, uncool,
Maybe if I cling to it they’ll call me “Simpleton.”
All I know is Truth, derided, under ridicule
Still is True, and I’ll be its “minority of one.”
Yes, I’ll make that choice to speak the Truth against the tide.
Orwell’s “revolutionary act,” though I’m alone,
Pilate asked Him, “What is truth?” and history replied, . . . that
Truth, though spurned, remains civilization’s Cornerstone.
Feb 17, 2017
Feb 17, 2017 at 8:38 PM UTC
Ghost of my dead saviour, off to haunt my achievements
Spawning, in me, resentment
Maligning my devotion with its indifference
Fiery dragon of the East, off to find contentment
Slaying emotions, with abandonment
Deceived me with its sombre appearance
This dragon has made me dependent
The things that thrilled me, now scare
This dragon has ****** its aegis upon me
Now all I can feel is, a suffocating snare
Angel and the Gambler selling hope, devilishly
Peddling dreams and joy, treacherously
Advertising homes for saints and sinners
Heart runs behind obliterated trust, mindlessly
Being the judge of its desires, heartlessly
No unbelievers in the city of illusions
This Angel has forced me to let my guard down
This Gambler has made me cave
My altar has made me a wrongdoer
My worships vilified by my pain
It is time to Alter the Altar
Feb 11, 2018
Feb 11, 2018 at 12:38 AM UTC
the forgotten child is nearing the end of their adolescence.
these thoughts have swam inside them for a decade
rumbling, roaring, ramming against their barricade
it was not me that was forgotten, but the naïve child inside me
i've spent a decade reserving my right to tell the awaited rescuer
that the child and i prefer to stay at our safe haven.
i am a body of 22, but a mind of 12
naïve 12 turned pitiful, pessimistic 14 turned people-pleaser 17
turned naive 18 turned pitiful, pessimistic 20 turned
please just come back, why did you never come back
i'll never stop wondering why i had to create my own safe haven
i've spent a decade reserving my right to turn away my wrongdoer
it's silly of me to think that you returning makes you a rescuer
nature versus nurture, a baby bird kicked from the comfy nest
a decade-long vacation from being a parent, abandoned until i grew
the forgotten child is nearing the end of their adolescence.
Jun 30, 2021
Jun 30, 2021 at 1:05 AM UTC
I could
up and go
any day I wanted
I should
forget this
Design unrendered
I will
let it pass
Slip through the cracks
Cause I am the evil to you
Of misconstrued facts
Feb 9, 2014
Feb 9, 2014 at 12:12 PM UTC
Escaped from fears
Smiles hiding tears
Yet Unable to sleep
Emotions Buried so deep
Losing a friend
Trying to comprehend
A candle snuffed out
Turning away in doubt
A father deceased
Farwell, We feast
Another sky turned gray
Hearts left in disarray
Return of Wrongdoer
Smiles become fewer
Drugs to help cope
Losing what little hope
Feelings to address
Family in distress
A mother points blame
A heart left maimed
Apology never received
False affections believed
Silent the line stays
As I've departed ways
Sep 10, 2024
Sep 10, 2024 at 3:09 PM UTC
It's so hard to forgive someone-
it's hard even to know what forgiveness is
should I agree that the wrong was necessary
should I sympathize with the wrongdoer
should I forget it ever happened
should I act as if it didn't
should I say something to you
I don't know. I don't know. All I know is when
I said, "I forgive you," even alone so no one heard,
a little piece of my heart unclenched,
a little shackle round my veins was let loose
and I knew then that when I said, "I forgive you,"
it was a better way of saying "I love you" and I knew that
the locks and loops holding me back were tied together
with my ability to forgive myself. I'm glad I saw this through.
Jan 30, 2016
Jan 30, 2016 at 12:21 PM UTC
Escaped from fears
Yet Unable to sleep
Smiles hide tears
Buried emotions so deep
Losing a friend
A candle put out
Trying to comprehend
Looking away to doubt
A father deceased
Another sky turned gray
Farewell, We feast
Onto heart that weigh
Return of wrongdoer
Drugs to help cope
Smiles become fewer
Losing that little hope
A mother points blame
False affections believed
A heart left maimed
Apology never received
Family in distress
Silent the lines stays
Tense emotions addressed
As I've departed ways
Sep 23, 2024
Sep 23, 2024 at 1:15 AM UTC
I love you,
You told me that a thousand times.
After all your crimes,
I wonder if you meant it once.
Am I just one of the guys you dated?
Disregarded in your trash?
Your toy for a year?
Did you even shed a tear?
Our plans are in the sewer,
But yours go along as planned,
You are never a wrongdoer,
Because it’s all for your well-being.
You told me you wanted to be a gymnast;
Well you bounce back faster than a boomerang;
Your peacock dance leaves me flabbergasted;
Come claim your gold medal at last.
Jul 20, 2021
Jul 20, 2021 at 10:23 PM UTC